


Little Things

by Vanilla_Owns_Chocolate



Series: Moving Forward [2]
Category: Don't Hug Me I'm Scared (Webseries)
Genre: BUT idc i started this before the announcement, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Triggers, this is probably gonna be proven wrong by the upcoming eps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 04:56:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15988082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanilla_Owns_Chocolate/pseuds/Vanilla_Owns_Chocolate
Summary: It was the little things, Red realized, that got under his skin.





	Little Things

It was the little things, Red realized, that got under his skin.

Nothing major, of course. He still ate and slept normally, unlike his friends. He still went to work every day at the correct time (a much better job than that dreary old office, for sure). He still remembered to clean up after himself and the house and everything and everyone in it.

But it was the little things that made him uneasy. He could no longer stand to watch his favorite show. He tended to stay away from most computers and modern technology. Sometimes, when he was separated from Duck and Yellow for too long, he got just the tiniest bit paranoid.

But that was fine. Everything was okay. They were safe. They had escaped the simulation and were living their own lives, free from the tyranny of Roy and the torture of each new “lesson” that would await them. Time passed normally now; it was no longer June 19th, and every day they would look at the calendar just to remind themselves that the date was different.

The calendar. Their newer, more efficient calendar, not the tear-away one that they had back in the simulation. For some unspoken reason, they dreaded the idea of owning something similar. Maybe it was because they feared waking up one day to find the page they had just torn off reattached again, good as new. That was probably it.

But that was a little thing. Just a minor, insignificant detail that had no effect on Red’s life whatsoever. He could handle it. No big deal.

Besides, it was nothing compared to Duck and Yellow. God, they had it bad.

Duck seemed normal at first glance, but he was more jittery than usual. He hated being in dark rooms and slept with the light on. He had recurring nightmares. He even refused to shower, as that would require him to take off his shirt and look at the big scar along his belly where he had been cut open. It was hard to see through the fluffy green feathers, but Duck hated looking at it regardless.

Sometimes, when his nightmares got really bad, Red would have to come into his bedroom and comfort him. He would always find him clutching his stomach, as if he were forcing his organs to stay inside out of fear that they would spill out of him at any moment.

“Am I dead?” he’d ask between gasps and sobs. “Is this even real? Is this just another simulation?!”

“You’re not dead, Duck,” Red would reply, awkwardly patting his shoulder. “You can still feel, think, breathe. Dead people can’t do that, can they?”

“No,” the bird would say uncertainly, tears still running down his face. “No, no they can’t...but-”

“Can you feel your bedsheets? Tell me what they feel like.”

“They’re…soft, and light, a-and…” A sharp inhale, followed by a shaky sigh. “Real. They’re real.”

“And you’re real.” Red would say. “If you were dead, we wouldn’t be sitting here talking to each other, would we? You wouldn’t be able to feel your bedsheets or cry or eat or sleep, but you can.”

And so it would repeat every few nights, over and over until Duck fell asleep or calmed down. It was devastating to see his friend like this, Red thought, but he would always get better. The next morning, he’d be back to his old self like nothing ever happened.

Yellow, on the other hand, was the worst.

His nightmares happened almost every night, to the point where he was afraid to even go to sleep. He hardly ever ate, despite the incessant growling of his stomach. He was terrified of being left alone and clung to his friends whenever they were nearby. This sometimes proved to be a problem, as he hated going outside. He didn’t want to be separated from them and taken away by some mean “teacher” who wanted to hurt him.

Like Red, there were certain things he couldn’t stand to look at, but they were much more distressing to him. Whenever he saw a butterfly, he screamed and scrambled away. He refused to go into the grocery store whenever they all went shopping because he couldn’t stand looking at all the food. Before, when they were all trapped within the simulation, he liked to draw. Now, when presented with a sketchbook or a blank piece of paper, he would shove it away with a pale expression.

He tended to stick to Red more often. Being around Duck for too long made him feel sick, as the events of the fifth “lesson” were still fresh in his mind. Red had been through some pretty fucked up shit, but nothing could compare to the horror of Yellow being forced to eat one of his closest friends.

This proved to be a problem, as Yellow needed to be homeschooled. They tried sending him to a little schoolhouse down the street, but he couldn’t be being separated from Red and Duck for more than a couple minutes, let alone a whole school day. So, while Red went to work, Duck stayed home and taught Yellow all he knew.

This was a bad idea for a multitude of reasons. Aside from the guilt of being around someone he ate, Yellow had developed a fear of being taught. All the other lessons he had received in the past lead to him or his friends being tortured; obviously, he had issues with the concept of education.

Yellow was only a child, unlike Red and Duck. At one point, he was innocent, but now that innocence had been horribly, horribly shattered, and he didn’t know what to do.

Sometimes, he would ask about Roy. Red hated when he asked this. He had tried to explain, very gently, that his dad was the bad person who had trapped them with all the mean objects who wanted to hurt them, but Yellow couldn’t understand it.

“That doesn’t make sense,” he said, “my dad is my friend. Friends aren’t mean to each other like that.”

It was heartbreaking to listen to him, especially when he started asking to see him. During his panic attacks, when he thought of his time in the simulation, he’d start looking around for him.

“Where’s my dad?!” he’d cry, feeling around for someone who wasn’t there. “I-i want my dad!”

Red never knew how to respond. He would just rub at his mop of messy red hair uneasily, trying to change the subject.

“Um...can you feel your-”

“Dad! I want Dad!” Yellow would interrupt. “I just want my dad!”

It was...difficult, to say the least. How do you explain to a child that his father was a cruel, sadistic torturer? That he was responsible for all the suffering they had gone through together? Red couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it and it was all Roy’s fault, all his fault for forcing them to play his sick, twisted game. He hated him, hated him more than he had ever hated anyone in the world, and if he ever saw him again he wouldn’t hesitate to grab his neck and squeeze the life out of him until he was nothing more than a limp husk in his arms, a limp husk who would never hurt anyone ever again.

But then he thought about Yellow and how he would react. Roy deserved hell, certainly, but Yellow didn’t know that. If he found out, surely he would become even more damaged than he already was. As far as he knew, his dad was missing, but alive. That was the only thing that really held Red back from acting on his thoughts and hunting down Roy once and for all. But…

Was it really worth it? Red looked around at his friends, lying on either side of him on the couch, snoring away. If he killed Roy, their suffering would be far from over, but if he let him live…

No. No, he wouldn’t think about that. For now, he was happy. For now, his friends were asleep, getting the much-needed rest they deserved. For now, they were together as one big happy family.

That, he supposed, was worth it, regardless of all the little things.

**Author's Note:**

> i swear to god i thought i was done writing fanfics about this show but then i was like "hey i have an idea"


End file.
